Lille Faroes
by Pleather Princex
Summary: A collection of drabbles centering on OC!Faroe Islands and her relations and encounters with other countries, especially the Nordics. Will contain many different parings such as OC/Canon and OC/OC pairings.
1. Intro, Drinking

_Hello there and welcome to this first chapter~ This chapter is sort of an introduction, and what better way of an intro than someone's childhood, specifically the first drinking experience._

_Just some stuff:_

_**1**. Some chapters will be in first person point of view, but more often they'll be third person. **2**. I'm using the name for this OC!Faroes as Anina Valdis Sinclair, but she'll go by various nicknames throught the drabble, Ani being the most used. **3.**__ There are other family connected to Faroes to be used in these drabbles, but they'll come up later. **4. **She will be in some pairings with a few canon characters, as other OCs will be, but I'll try to keep them within their historical relations and interactions. **5. **More explanations will come up for anything I might need to explain. And of course, you're welcome to ask questions._

_Alright, so this chapter focuses on Denmark, Norway and Faroes. I've made Denmark as Faroes' uncle because of his ownership over her and strong influence as well as control, almost like a father, but not so much. _

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia._**

_

* * *

_Never when I first drank did I think it would be like this. Disgusting. The bubbles ran down my throat all wrong and it tasted so bitter and salty, much worse than anything I'd ever drank before, even as a remedy. But I wanted it. I wanted to drink and I wanted to be grown up. I wanted to be a Viking. The two just went together perfectly. So of course, I thought if I drank it would help me on my path to being like the big Nordics.

The big Nordics drank, they fought, they had more women and status than they knew what to do with. I wanted that. Even if I was a girl, I wanted it. I wanted to be known, I wanted to fight, and I wanted to do what they did. What my uncle did.

Naturally, I observed what went on when they drank, if I was invited (rarely, unless there was a feast) or not. Onkel seemed like a good person to observe. He drank and was almost instantly happy. Happy enough to laugh and goof off with the men around him and try to get with any of the women near them. I felt a small sense of pride thinking that this was going to happen to me; being surrounded by friends, being the happy talkative center of attention. I _knew_ I wanted it.

So I asked my brother.

It seemed logical, him drinking thanks to our uncle. And through being oh so persuasive with him through tactics of childish play fights and arguing, I got my way. He took me to the next feast where there was _assured_ to be drinking, especially since onkel and the others had just returned.

I was worried they wouldn't even let me in at first, since I was still a girl, a young one at that, but surprisingly, I was without complication. That was probably due to my recent haircut from an accident resulting with tar almost covering my scalp and hair completely. I wormed my way inside until I found my uncle, surrounded by the big Nordics and laughing loudly, almost obnoxiously. I managed to seat myself on a bench next to him.

"Hej Ani!" he grins and turns, but there's something weird about it, like he's not as graceful as he should be.

"Hvad, onkel?" I raised an eyebrow and looked at the mug of beer in his grip.

"Drink with me!" There's slurring in his words as he shoves a full mug clumsily into my hands, spilling some on me.

I make a face and take the mug and he turns back to talking to some woman. I sniff the liquid inside and it smells bitter and strange. I look up from it and catch myself locking eyes with Norway. His are steely blue as always, but look even more so as he examines me with the alcohol in my hands. I try to swallow thickly and look away, but I feel like I can't even do that. I felt guilty for some reason, holding what I did in front of Norway. Like when mor caught me doing something bad and stared at me like that with disappointment, but somehow Norway's stare then was even worse.

"Hey, you're not drinking?"

I almost dropped the cup in surprise. Danmark's hand roughly pushed the mug up to my mouth.

"C'mon, drink it. It'll get stale and shit."

"B-But I…" I sneaked a glance at Norge. "…I can't…"

"Ya gotta drink, Ani! That's why we're all here, anyway!"

"But onkel…I…don't know…how?"

"Don't know— It's easy! Jus' watch!" He demonstrated by chugging his own mug down in what seemed less than a second.

"Wow…is it really that easy?"

"Ja! Just like water, but tastes a hell of a lot better!"

"A-alright."

I tipped the mug back as it met my lips and started to drink. I sputtered and nearly gagged after the first few gulps, the bubbles and bitterness a little too much for me. After a few more swallows, I forced myself to put the mug down. My uncle laughed.

"That's the spirit! You'll be a 'real man' in no time!" he was laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. I just grimaced as the bubbles started to make their way up my throat and a burn began to replace the tickling sensation from before. Coughing, I looked up at onkel. He was too preoccupied with one of his friends. I pulled on his sleeve.

"O-onkel…!" I wheezed in between a cough and a gag.

"Hvad?" he turned toward me slightly.

I held my stomach and burped before paling. His eyes widened and I could see the obnoxious happiness turn to concern and a kind of horror.

"C'mon…let it out…"

That's exactly what I was doing. "Letting it out" behind the feast hall while he looked over me and rubbed my back.

"Well, that was stupid," a cold voice said from behind me. "Good job, idiot."

"Norge, it's not my fault!"

I wanted to say it wasn't his fault for once, and I actually wanted to drink, but I of course was puking out my insides and could be no help.

"Really? Then you _didn't_ tell her to drink?"

I could feel the cold deadpan stare even in the state I was in.

"Nej! And if I did, it's good for her!"

"Good how? Her mother will smell the alcohol on her and know it was your fault."

"Wait a minute…"

They continued to argue as I coughed up the last of the bile. I wiped my mouth, and then practically jumped on my uncle's back, almost making him fall.

"Take…home, now," I muttered.

"Fine, fine. You sure you don't want to drink anymore?"

"Nej." I coughed and half gagged into my hand.

"Jus' don't throw up on me, alright?"

"You'd deserve it anyway," came Norge's response.

"Home." I coughed before they could break out fighting again.

"Alright, jeez."

He adjusted me on his back and headed towards his house, away from the alcohol, with Norway in tow.

* * *

_Mmkay, so here are some translations. Mostly Danish._

_Nej: "No" _

_Ja: "Yes"_

_Onkel: "Uncle"_

_Hvad "What"_


	2. 50 Sentence Challenge

_This chapter is a 1 sentence challenge containing 50 themes to write about, each having to be a sentence long._

_These mostly revolve around Faroes' childhood, but some present day events are in there as well. Shetland is Faroes' mother in this, reason being for a possible geographical break off and strong relations translating as an almost mother-daughter relationship._

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia._**

_

* * *

_

#01 - Motion

She always heeded her uncle's advice, getting out of the way before there was a need for him to yell at her to do it.

#02 - Cool

Looking up to her uncles, she thought they were always the people with the most brains, grace and brawn, making them utterly cool, but now that she wasn't three feet tall, she could see they were just average idiots.

#03 - Young

Times have changed drastically since she was a child, but she would always be a child compared to all the other countries.

#04 - Last

Always, you're going to be last, at least she thought that as she saw everyone but her turn into "real" countries while she stayed under her uncle's rule, more than a few centuries gone by.

#05 - Wrong

"I might be wrong, but at least I can be badass while doing it," she stated as she tried to ignore the older land masses' eye rolls, her mother's especially.

#06 - Gentle

"Ow…ow…ow, can you _please_ not break my spine when I try to hug you?" she pleaded quietly as she was grabbed up in another of her uncle's bear hugs.

#07 - One

"Don't you ever feel like you're alone in the sea of this mess?" her brother bothered to ask her for yet the millionth time as she stood on her islands between the Brits and the Nordics, mostly forgotten as time went on.

#08 - Thousand

Counting to a thousand could be helpful when she was waiting out the fighting, and waiting for Tyskland to leave, so she could see her family wholly again.

#09 - King

"Ha! If he's the King of Northern Europe, then I'm the princess!" she ignored the collective facepalm.

#10 - Learn

"If I learn to fight and I learn your language, will you let me stay with mor?"

#11 - Blur

Sometimes she could see things like Norge could or like England, but it always turned out to be some blur in the corner of her vision, one that was almost there, but not.

#12 - Wait

She hated playing the waiting game, especially if she was waiting on people, and it wasn't that hard for her to go crazy from her impatience.

#13 - Change

"I look like a boy," she pouted, as the last of the ginger hair covered in tar was cut off, "And worst of all, I look like my bror."

#14 - Command

All she could do was follow their orders, Denmark, Norway, England, Shetland; it didn't matter anymore, just as long as she listened to them.

#15 - Hold

She didn't know _why_ she had to have a physical hold on people, just holding their hand felt _right_.

#16 – Need

She wasn't one to actually need much of anything from people, but was happy to comply and help them in any way she could.

#17 – Vision

Going blind was always a thought that crossed her mind, and found at times it would be easier to be so.

#18 – Attention

Among the many things to get her uncle's or mother's attention, she found just keeping quiet to be the best move.

#19 - Soul

"If I die, where will my soul go?" was really what she thought as a small child was good to ask, at the time, at least.

#20 - Picture

"If we all take a picture and your face doesn't manage to screw it up —especially you, bror— then I'm sure it'll turn out fine."

#21 – Fool

Maybe acting a little foolish at times, it wasn't her fault, it was just her nature.

#22 - Mad

She didn't beat people up when she was mad (not anymore anyways), but growing up in an era where your people could use violence to do as they pleased didn't exactly help.

#23 - Child

"You're never going to grow up, are you?" she often asked her reflection as she kept her young appearance even now, as she was growing up.

#24 – Now

"Demanding," she scoffed at the Inuit boy in front of her, "And no, I _love_ it here, so leave this _instant_."

#25 - Shadow

Most times she felt as if she was living in the shadows of her neighbors, being forced to play in the dark, forgotten.

#26 - Goodbye

Decidedly, she was going kicking and screaming and biting if she was dragged away from her mother yet again.

#27 - Hide

Whenever someone new was added to her uncle's expanding kingdom, she would rather hide in her room than stay out and watch the ongoing fights and arguments before the calm of peace.

#28 – Fortune

Even if she still owed her uncle all that money (he had enough of it anyway, why the hell did he need hers was beyond her) and even if she didn't have exactly the _best_ economy, she could say she was rich in other ways.

#29 - Safe

The best safety was lying in bed between the sheets, where she could either stay with her mother or uncle or her boyfriend, but just _feeling_ safe wasn't enough for her.

#30 – Ghost

Out of the ghosts she had met in all the places she had been in (being it an abandoned hospital or office building), the Lady in Silk at Windhouse on one of her mother's islands was the one she could relate to most, both being forgotten unless it suited someone else.

#31 - Book

"Read me Anderson's stories, onkel, and _then_ I'll go to bed!"

#32 – Eye

Eye contact was the most important thing in business deals, negotiations and otherwise, but why did she always shy away from _his_ gaze?

#33 - Never

"Ha, I'm _never_ going to get married to a _boy_ with some stupid dick when I can make my own babies with a girl!" she said, already having no idea how to achieve that notion.

#34 - Sing

"I sing like one of my mor's banshees, so no way in _hell_ am I going up there and doing some fucking karaoke!"

#35 - Sudden

"And now for something completely different—" she was cut off as her brother punched her in the stomach to stop her banter.

#36 - Stop

"I'll stop bothering you if you give me your sister!" she sneered at the significantly older Scandinavian boy in front of her, trying to catch a glimpse of the small golden haired girl behind him.

#37 - Time

She laughed beside her brother as they ran for the hills from the explosive temperance of their mother, not bothering to warn their soon to be visiting uncle that 'the time of the month' was taking place.

#38 - Wash

"But if I wash, then all my camouflage will be ruined!" she pouted as her mother scrubbed the wet rag over her face.

#39 - Torn

Never before could she decide between either her 'Nordic family' or her 'other family', but she never did, and wasn't about to now.

#40 - History

Throwing the history book that was one of many that never listed her or her small (though important) involvement in World War II _would_ help her relieve her anger at the pigheaded librarian, but she wasn't sure if she would be allowed back again.

#41 - Power

"He's not gonna go crazy with power, I don't even think he wants a huge kingdom anyway," she scoffed at her mother's suggestion of Denmark.

#42 - Bother

Giggles filled the air as she annoyed her brother for what seemed to be the thirtieth time that day.

#43 - God

"Why should I believe in what I can't see when I see Freya eating apples all the time and Loki messing around?" she stared at the Brit in front of her, giving him a stare almost identical to that of Norway.

#44 - Wall

Somehow, she figured there was an imaginary wall built between her and everyone else, but they all managed to climb it at one time or another.

#45 - Naked

She often laughed at how her mother was so embarrassed at being nude in front of a man when she was younger, but now she saw it in a completely different light.

#46 - Drive

"I can drive, I can drive like hell and not exactly legally…But I can drive!"

#47 - Harm

"I _swear_ if you touch her…if you hurt her in anyway…I'm ripping your spleen out and feeding it to your Hel and then I'll rip your eyeballs out and make you watch me drain all the fluids from your body, _got it_?" her mother said, filling Anina with a sense of pride at her protectiveness.

#48 - Precious

Falling asleep in a house full of Nordics, being in the center of them all and somehow being more different, being more feminine and delicate in some way, but not, being her and being prized among her uncle's colonies, being most loyal and being _his_ little girl.

#49 – Hunger

Even with the gnawing at the pit of her five year old stomach for food her mother had set out, she wouldn't eat until Denmark and Norway came home.

#50 – Believe

"Mor, if I wish that I'll have a little sibling by the end of the year, do you think it'll happen?" the teen asked and was answered with a spit take from the flustered Shetland.

* * *

_Translations. Mostly Danish again._

_Nej: "No" _

_Ja: "Yes"_

_Onkel: "Uncle"_

_Tyskland: "Germany"_

_Mor: "Mother/Mom"_

_Bror: "Brother"_


	3. Tears

_Alright, this chapter takes place in 1448, during a war between Sweden and Denmark __over who should be the new King after Christoffer the Third's death, started by a disagreement. Greenland is the brother mentioned near the end, the brother of Faroes._

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia._**

_

* * *

_

Pressed against a stone wall, trying to calm her rapid breathing, there was only one thing she wouldn't admit to, ever. She was scared. She couldn't take a breath without it turning ragged in her throat and start coughing, but holding her breath didn't help either. She just kept blinking out the wetness, long ago having given up on wiping it away every minute.

Shaken maybe, but not scared.

But this was for different reasons, reasons she could probably cry for, but only weak cried. She sniffled and looked around the corner. No one running over to chop her head off. Wonderful. But still, everything was disastrous as it was before. No one ceased fighting. She hid again as she heard the clang of metal upon metal nearby.

She didn't understand. Berwald had been so nice and gentle… He was probably a better father figure than her uncle. But… but she had seen him use his sword to cut at Danmark so rapidly and viciously… And the look on his face, or perhaps lack there of, was terrifying. She almost screamed when she saw his sword nearly go into the Dane's eye socket. That's when she had to leave. She didn't want to see her family fighting each other, nearly killing each other, even if it was of benefit in some way to whichever side.

Her breath became shakier as she recalled how emotionless he looked whenever he looked at her or her brother or whomever else Danmark owned. She could almost see a twinge of sadness coming from his eyes… Then a gaze upon Danmark would turn his gaze stony again. The hate became apparent. She scrubbed at her eyes once again to try to stop the renewed flow. Sounds of war around her became louder and louder. If only she could stop crying—

"Issat the best ya got, Ber?" a familiar male voice cackled. "I thought ya were better 'an this!"

An angry grunt responded and the Dane cackled louder.

"Tha' all ya got to say? Never much of a talker… Though, can't blame ya. I wouldn't wanna talk either if it meant people had to look at my ugly mug more 'an necessary."

Then the air was filled with sounds of metal upon metal and noises of anger she would have never had guessed a human could make. Though, they weren't _entirely_ human…

She peeked around the corner with blurry vision and was immediately pulled back. Her mouth was covered roughly as she was about to scream.

"Quiet…" A face next to her ear whispered. "Just be quiet… And don't bite me…"

She nodded and looked at the one covering her mouth. Breaking from his grasp, she immediately embraced them while crying, blabbering in Danish.

"S-sverige o-og D-Danmark…!" She sobbed into his shirt.

He pat her back, trying to calm her.

"It'll be alright… They're always like this…"

"B-but it's maddening! It's horrible, bror! Th-they'll g-get…k-killed!"

"They won't die, Nin. They can't—"

A scream of extreme pain and surprise sounded from around the building. Against their better judgment, the siblings stole a look. Their eyes were met with an impaled Danmark. Their ruler, their uncle, their father figure, was pierced by the sword of who they thought to be their childhood caretaker and friend, their Berwald. But he was someone else now, to them. And he was not to be part of Danmark.

This time, she really did cry.

_

* * *

__Translations. Danish._

_Sverige og Danmark : "Sweden and Denmark"_

_Bror: "Brother"_


	4. Language

_Once the Faroe Islands came under Danish control, the islands had to begin learning Danish._

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia._**

* * *

"C'mon, she needs to learn and you're the only one here!"

"C'n't."

"Why not? You're not doing anything!"

Berwald sighed and rubbed his temples before looking back up at the Dane.

"So…just th't? Nothin' else?"

"Ja, ja!" he nodded eagerly. "Jus' teach her some words! She needs to know more!"

"…F'ne."

"You're the greatest, Ber!" he gave the Swede a big bear hug before grabbing his coat and running to the door. "Jus' be careful what you teach her, she learns fast!"

"Like wh't?"

"Like…no cursin'!"

He stared at the Dane.

"Okay…maybe that's just me…but Shetland'll castrate me if it happens again!"

Without another word, he ran out, leaving Berwald with the small auburn haired child. He sighed and turned to her, finding her coddling a wooden doll with wooly hair. He walked over and sat crosslegged in front of her, waiting for her to take notice of his pressence. She continued to fuss over the toy, kissing it and brushing back its hair with her small fingers, all whilst talking to it in what seemed to be babble of almost Norse to him. She looked up, and fell back, startled. She stared up at him with wide green eyes, nearly open mouthed. He realized his face might have seemed less than inviting at the moment and softened his gaze, turning up the corners of his mouth in an attempt to smile. Her stare and gape disappeared as she crawled over to him.

"H'llo…" he extended his hand to her and she took it with her small fingers, using it to stand. "'m Berwald."

"Ber…" she cooed and spread her arms before plopping into his lap.

"Wh't's your n'me?"

He waited while she situated herself in his lap, resting her small head on his thigh. She fisted her hands in his shirt, pulling at it, before raising her eyes to him.

"Ani."

"Ani," he repeated. "N'ce t' meet you, Ani. Can you say 'h'llo'?"

"'llo?"

"Alm'st… Hal-lo."

"_Hal_. Lo!"

"Good 'nough. Or hej."

"Hej!" She waved excitedly.

"Th't's good… Wh't else c'n you say?"

"Ooh…" She poked his stomach. "Mave." She pointed to his hand. "Hånd."

"Anyth'ng else?"

She shook her head. He sighed. It looked like he had his work cut out for him.

"L't's start with n'mbers…"

"'m home!"

"Velkommen hjem!" the ginger shouted as she ran to the door.

"Whoa, that's new!" Denmark chuckled as he picked her up and swung her around. "Did you have fun with Ber?"

"BerBer nice!"

"He is, huh? Did he teach you lots of stuff?"

"Ja!"

"Tell me something cool!"

"Danmark er et ryk!" she giggled.

"I—wait, what?"

She repeated herself, giggling even more.

"A-Ani." He set her down and squatted down to her level. "Where did you learn that?"

She stared at him thoughtfully, putting a finger to her chin before replying.

"Onkel BerBer."

Denmark paled. "Ber, huh? Ber's been teaching you a lot…"

A snort came from behind Ani as a big hand came down on her head and ruffled her hair. Denmark looked up and met the icy eyes of the other blonde.

"She's a f'st learner, 'm'mber?" He smirked ever so slightly.

* * *

_Translations. Danish._

_Hej/Hallo = Hello_

_Mave = stomach_

_Hånd = hand_

_Velkommen hjem! = Welcome home!_

_Danmark er et ryk! = Denmark is a jerk!_


End file.
